


Le Magasin de Fleurs

by kamerlort



Series: Fleur [1]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10491894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamerlort/pseuds/kamerlort
Summary: Where Gaston, our lovable hero, is a club aficionado who can't help but fall in love for once.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pansaralance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pansaralance/gifts).



> This fic is dedicated to my friend Kate, who got me into Gafou. Choke bitch!
> 
> Obligatory Disclaimer: Gaston is a club whore and there's nothing wrong with that. There's no shame in having lots of sex or one night stands. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

It's almost two in the morning, yet Gaston is just getting started.

The obnoxious pounding of bass music reverberates around the club, shaking the ground underneath an ocean of undulating bodies. Perspiration and alcohol mix together in a concoction of carefree lust that sends blood pumping at an alarmingly high rate, in tune to the music's raucous tempo.

Gaston participates in this ritual of debauchery almost nightly, although it's on the odd weekends where he doesn't peel himself away until the early morning sunlight breaks through the darkened windows, signaling night's end. He currently has the pleasure of a good few hours behind him, his profligacy likely to score him another encounter with one of the several attractive patrons that seek the same wishful fulfillment.

The man who accompanied Gaston upon arrival is nowhere to be seen. It had taken less than twenty minutes before the pair had retired to one of the stalls in the back, do what needed to done, and split. The phone that buzzes in Gaston's back pocket signals an appreciation for the short time spent, but the man doesn't bother to respond. What was only a few hours previous is like eons ago in his mind, and the reason why the few people who would dare to call themselves "friends" of Gaston have labeled him as the harlot that he is.

At the bar, Gaston does end up retrieving his phone from where it digs uncomfortably into his ass. A few new matches from Grindr and the text from his last partner are all that greet him. The brightness of the phone's screen causes a twinge of pain to flood through his already pounding skull. Turning the brightness down to zero, he throws the offending device on the counter before him and orders a vodka on the rocks, the attractive bartender throwing him a licentious smile in turn to his command.

It's at that moment when Gaston sees him.

He's a shorter man, hair groomed neatly in a way that isn't plain nor flashy. Despite the incredible heat of the club, he is dressed in a peculiar tweed jacket with long khaki trousers. His round frame is decidedly adorable, Gaston finds, from the bottom of his oxford bound feet to the thick-framed glasses that perch upon a button-like nose. The scruff at his chin and the apparently lost look in his eyes reveal that this environment is not one in which the man partakes.

A lamb in the wake of a lion. Heat pools in the pit of Gaston's belly, and he downs the drink that has been sweating at his side with newfound urgency. Rolling his shoulders and cracking the vertebrae along his back, Gaston sashays toward his next piece of delectable prey.

"A bit hot to be wearing that many layers, isn't it darling?" He booms over the chaos of the club. The man starts, taken aback at the sudden intrusion of space as Gaston looms over his shoulder with a smirk.

"I'm sorry?" he questions, craning his neck back to look at the larger man.

"The name's Gaston. Would you like a drink? It's a lot quieter over by the bar."

At that, the man finally turns around to look him directly in the eye. Gaston underestimated just how short the other man is, looking down into warm brown eyes that are level to his collarbone.

"I'm actually here with some friends at the moment. Thanks for the offer though."

Gaston is not so easily deterred at his words. "What's your name?"

Gingerly, the man takes a step back and forces an amicable smile to grace his features. "I never said."

"All the more reason to tell me."

Sensing that the conversation isn't nearly over yet, he responds with a curt, "Lefou."

"Ah! Parlez-vous français?"

"I don't know what you just said, but no."

Gaston lets out a bellowing laugh at his words, slyly wrapping an arm around the other man's shoulders. "It's always nice to meet someone with a shared history, nonetheless."

"I suppose."

Sensing the stiffness in Lefou's disposition, Gaston urges the man towards the bar, moving a hand to splay wide over his lower back. "So, how about those drinks?"

"If you're so adamant about buying, I guess I can't say no."

Smiling with a glint of sharp white teeth, Gaston sits the pair down on the swivel chairs that line the oblique counter. The bass music is not quite as deafening in this corner of the club, just as Gaston had promised. Ordering a pair of shots, he turns to face Lefou with an open grin.

"So, what brings you here tonight?"

Lefou doesn't meet his gaze immediately, instead choosing to straighten out the cuffs of his jacket. Once deemed acceptable, he gives Gaston a side-along glance, mouth quirked up into a modest smile.

"It's actually my birthday, today. Well, yesterday technically, since I think it's now morning."

Gaston beams, throwing his arms wide open in excitement. "Congratulations and happy birthday!"

Ducking his head in a nervous manner, Lefou utters out a short breath of thanks. In just the right moment, the bartender arrives with the pair of shots, glowing almost pink in the neon lights. Gaston gives a nod of appreciation, quickly pushing a crystalline glass at Lefou with barely contained anticipation.

"Let us drink to health and prosperity!"

Each toasting their shot, they pour the tonic down and nearly slam their empty shotglasses onto the counter at the same time. Lefou lets out a short giggle, and the desire that has pooled in Gaston's belly sharpens at the sound. Leaning onto the edge of the bar's fixture, he bores a heated gaze into Lefou's temple.

"So, you mentioned you were here with friends tonight. Should I be worried that they'll eventually come and take you away from me?"

Lefou openly snorts at that comment. "I'm sure they're too busy enjoying themselves to look for me."

"Glad I found you in time, then. Going solo on your birthday just doesn't sound as appealing to me." Sweeping his gaze up and down Lefou's body in a completely conspicuous manner, Gaston smiles. "You, however, are as appealing as they come."

Finally turning to fully face him, an unimpressed look masks Lefou's face. "As thankful as I am for the drink, you'll have to work on your pick-up skills."

Mocking offense, Gaston frowns dramatically. "I don't suppose you could give me some hints on what you'd find successful in our case?"

Lefou looks down at the watch wrapped around his wrist. "Come to think of it, it's actually getting way too late for me to still be out. I'm sorry but I think those hints will have to wait until next time."

The other man is already rising from his seat and Gaston panics, immediately standing up and slapping the money he owes onto the counter with more force than necessary. Stumbling a bit as he closes in on Lefou, he grabs ahold of the man by the shoulder and spins him around.

"Are you sure about leaving so soon? I mean, the night is still young! Why not stay awhile?"

A look of surprise meets Gaston's own desperate gaze. "Thank you for the offer Gaston, but I really should probably be getting home."

Gaston manages to eek past Lefou and stand imposingly in his line of exit.

"Are you sure? There's so much we haven't yet discussed—I've yet to even grace you with a dance!"

Attempting to look over Gaston's shoulder with no luck, Lefou crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. "You're not the kind of man who gives up easily, are you?"

"Not at all."

Another pained look at the wristwatch makes Gaston's heart jump before Lefou lets out a short sigh. "I suppose one dance couldn't hurt."

Gaston barely lets him finish his sentence before he pulls the shorter man towards the dancefloor, triumph shining brightly in his eyes.

 

 

As expected, the dancefloor is still packed to the brim with warm bodies grinding against one another. Gaston is adept at weaving inbetween couples with grace, dragging Lefou along behind him until a prime spot reveals itself. Stopping in his tracks, he manages to maneuver Lefou until he has the other man pressed up against him, veering dangerously close to Gaston's abdomen. Swaying in tune to the music, he allows his broad palms to settle on Lefou's hips, leaning forward until his lips are a few scant inches from the man's ear.

"Shall I take the lead?"

Lefou doesn't speak, merely nodding in agreement as he loosely falls into rhythm with Gaston's movements. It's stiff at the beginning, almost cautious and nothing like the display of insouciant ardor that surrounds them. With a sly hand, Gaston allows himself to pull Lefou even closer until they are slotted together, back to front, leaving no possible room between them.

After sensing that his partner is no longer wary of the contact, Gaston rolls his hips and rubs against the curve of Lefou's backside, fingers digging into his hips as he allows his chin to drop onto the shoulder in front of him. Lefou doesn't shy away from the contact, surprisingly, merely covering Gaston's large hands with his own smaller ones and pushing back against his enormous frame with intent to touch.

It's intoxicatingly intimate, Gaston decides, something filled with passion but still somehow innocent. He isn't rutting against Lefou like he often does on his escapades, grinding his erection on the man like his life depends on it. It's somehow more complicated. Gaston is momentarily lost as he finds himself holding the other man in his arms, relishing the contact and the soft hair that tickles his temple. Lefou's eyes are closed, dark eyelashes peeking through the corner of Gaston's vision.

They move together in a sync that's almost too personal for complete strangers. Continuing in tandem, Gaston finds himself almost hypnotized by the smell of clean soap that assaults his nose, the heat between them burning a hole through the thin white t-shirt he's wearing. After a moment of quiet contemplation, Lefou pushes back onto Gaston's now burgeoning erection with such poise that he momentarily freezes.

With a harsh grip on Lefou's still-swaying hips, Gasron brushes his lips across the shell of Lefou's ear. "Come home with me," he begs unexpectedly.

At his words, Lefou slows his movements, tipping his head to the side and glancing at Gaston for a moment. His face is expressionless, completely void of any positive or negative emotions. Merely slipping back into a blissful sort of disposition, eyes closed, he continues to press back against Gaston. "We'll see. I don't think I'm quite yet convinced."

It takes Gaston a moment to realize that Lefou is playing him, a smile sneaking past his carefree façade. How bizarre it is to not be the one in charge he thinks, clinging onto Lefou with a desperation that's almost embarrassing. He's almost fully hard and the contact between them has been anything but excessive. Gaston needs more.

Leaning forward, he lazily draws his lips across the scruffy beard at Lefou's jawline. It's heaven, the sharp prickle of hair scraping against his chin and cheek, surely leaving the skin red in it's wake. Lefou leans into the touch, merely enticing Gaston further to drag his mouth to the side of the other man's neck and inhale his scent.

The music seems to play at half speed as they shift against one another, lazy touches and time leisurely spent as Gaston feels frustration build in tandem. Looking as unhurried as one would be waiting in line, Lefou allows himself to slowly rock against Gaston. The slight movements send fire burning at the surface of his skin, sweat rolling down the small of his back and collecting on the arch of his brow.

As if sensing Gaston's descent into pure madness, Lefou suddenly breaks apart from the taller man and turns to face him directly, looking statuesquely still in comparison to the winding bodies around them. Standing on tiptoe, Lefou drags a hand over the front of his sweat-soaked shirt, grasping the material tightly in his fist, and accosts Gaston with a question, and a smile:

"Would you take me home?"

 

 

When the pair stumble into Gaston's apartment only twenty three minutes later, they don't even make it to the bed. The apartment is an absolute mess, clothes and magazines and haphazard furniture making the modest living room into a war zone. Lefou doesn't hesitate when he lands on a copy of Rolling Stone Magazine, dragging Gaston on top of him and snatching his lips in a rough kiss.

Pants and shirts come off in succession as Gaston sucks at Lefou's bottom lip, severing contact for only a moment as he tears the shirt over the other man's head. Lefou tastes like sweets, the kind that he craved daily when he was younger, sugary and salty all at once. Throwing the material over his shoulder, he pauses for a moment to lean back and admire the half-naked man before him.

Lefou is picturesque, sprawled on the carpet with only his powder-blue boxer briefs on. His glasses are slightly askew, eyes nearly closed as he gazes up at Gaston with a slight smile. Legs held open, the clear line of his erection stares Gaston straight in the face. It's probably the most enticing image he's seen all month. Refusing to break eye contact, he shoves his jeans down around his knees with resolute determination.

Gaston doens't expect laughter to be met only a few seconds later.

Freezing with his fingers on the separated material at his fly, he adjusts his attention to Lefou, who is now chuckling heartily at Gaston's crotch. Looking down at himself, the bright red material of his underwear seems to blind him with it's intensity. For a moment his entire body flushes with embarrassment at the offending thong that proudly displays his hard length.

Decidedly looking the other man in the eyes, he masks his horror with a smile. "I prefer comfort over fashion."

Lefou is wiping away tears of mirth, chortling under his breath as he replies, "It's certainly fashionable to say the least. Now take them off."

Gaston frees himself from the confines of the garment before lunging towards Lefou and sitting astride his lap, their cocks lapsing against one another at the proximity. Lefou quickly makes haste of his own underwear in turn. Gaston growls at the sight, burrowing his face once more into the smooth skin of the other man's neck and sucking a bruise at the jugular. Moaning in response, Lefou's hands grab at the swell of Gaston's ass as he grinds into the man above him.

Eventually through the haze of their shared eagerness, Gaston withdraws a crumpled condom from the front pocket of his discarded jeans. Thanking all the gods above that the ones he bought came with lube, he rips the plastic away and squirts the fluid over his wide fingers.

Lefou groans, sitting up on elbows as he allows Gaston additional access. Spreading the lubricant over his hole, Gaston watches as the man throws his head back and gasps. Urging the tip of his forefinger in, slowly and steadily, he can't help but be completely entranced at the sight of the Lefou rocking against his hand.

Once one finger becomes two becomes three, Gaston is already about to come at the way Lefou's body tightens around his thick fingers. Withdrawing the slick digits, he doubles down on the edges of orgasm as he rolls the condom onto his straining cock. Lefou is panting, already open and yawning and staring at Gaston with hooded eyes. Positioning himself between Lefou's legs, he glances at the other man and hopes that he lasts more than five seconds.

Bracing himself for the wet heat, Gaston pushes the head of his cock in with a low moan. It's incredible, the feel of the other man squeezing and flexing around him. Lefou hisses out a pitched whine as he begins to inch forward, his own cock dark and hard and waiting to be touched. Not wasting a second of time, Gaston grabs ahold of Lefou's erection and drags a thumb across the wet head, finally sheathing himself to the hilt.

For a moment neither man dare to breathe, both wound tight with arousal and adjusting to the heady sensations. Shifting on his knees, Gaston glides his palms to the underside of Lefou's thighs, preparing himself to withdraw from the tight confinement of the other man. Lefou and Gaston lock eyes as the larger man begins to pull back, sliding out of Lefou centimeter by centimeter, his nearly black eyes burning as he watches Gaston grit his teeth to stop himself from losing control.

Before the tip of his cock is fully withdrawn, Lefou unexpectedly pushes down onto Gaston's length with fervor. Letting out a terse shout, Gaston pumps his hand over Lefou's thick flesh and bends over to see the look of pleasure mirrored on his face. He can't help but stare as Lefou continues to arch onto his cock, perspiration dotting his forhead at the effort.

With his own hand Gaston continues to caress Lefou's skin, dragging calloused fingers across the sensitive nerves of the other man's length and the fine skin on the back of his knee. Feeling the pressure building at his gut, Gaston can't help but utter out a shaky warning as Lefou takes him fully in one fell swoop. Seizing up in response, he slips out of the other man and barely gets the condom off before he's coming against the inside of Lefou's warm thigh, sweat rolling down his face as he takes in the sight.

Lefou is the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen, come dribbling slowly down his shapely legs. With fervent determination, Gaston doesn't give himself a moment to collect his bearings before he bends down and swallows Lefou's erection in one go. Staring up at the other man's face makes his skin burn, and Lefou lets out a moan so strong that it shakes his entire body. The hand that had previously been massaging Lefou's leg is now gripping his cock, moving in tandem with Gaston's mouth. Salty sweat and the unmistakable taste of the other man is so intoxicating that Gaston almost goes lightheaded, sucking and bobbing on the ardent flesh and watching Lefou's face with rapt attention.

In a very short amount of time, the telltale sign of orgasm begins to wrack Lefou's body. Opening his throat, Gaston forces himself to suck the other man down as far as humanly possible. It takes only a few moments more before Lefou gasps and the sharp taste of come enters Gaston's mouth, staining his tastebuds.

Popping off the sensitive flesh, Gaston captures Lefou in an unblinking stare. The other man's eyes are closed, body sheen with sweat as his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. Gaston can't help but drink in the sight greedily, rubbing the side of his bearded chin on the soft flesh at Lefou's knee.

Just as soon as he makes contact with the other man's skin, Lefou's eyes snap open. Glancing at Gaston with an unreadable expression, he gives a skittish smile before slowly pulling his legs out from beneath Gaston's hold. Confusion makes his head swim as he helplessly watches Lefou stand and begin to reach for his articles of discarded clothing.

Slouching on his side, Gaston frowns. "Leaving so soon?"

Lefou miraculously has on his underwear, shirt, and socks in under ten seconds. Bringing his wristwatch to a closer proximity; Lefou responds, "it's already past three in the morning, and I have work tomorrow."

Gaston, still nude and lounging on the ground, suddenly shambles up onto his own shaky feet. "All the more reason to get some sleep! It's too dreadful a time to even think about catching a cab."

"Gaston, it's been fun. It really has, but I don't think I know you well enough to spend the night."

At those words, Gaston blanches. "I'm not a serial killer if it helps."

Lefou fixes him with a piercing gaze, shaking out his now rumpled trousers. "Thank you for that," he says with mock admiration, flitting his eyes to the other man's still apparent nudity.

Feeling as helpless as a lost child, Gaston can't help but watch Lefou quickly reassemble his outfit together once more. Slowly sinking onto the nearby sofa is all that he can do as exhaustion wracks his body. For a split second, he almost imagines a hesitation in Lefou's movements as he reaches for the doorknob, jacket drawn tightly over his shoulders.

Lefou takes off into the night without a word of goodbye, leaving Gaston feeling particularly empty as he sinks into a restless sleep.

 

 

When Gaston finally peels his eyes open and blindly reaches for his abandoned phone, the time reveals a modest 2:23 in the afternoon. The curtains that block the sunlight coming through his bay windows are drawn slightly apart, a beam of liquid gold cutting through his living room and illuminating the mess his previous adventure left.

The previous night.

Gaston moves to sit up far too quickly, and the pain that sears through his pounding skull is so intense that he flops back onto the sofa with a gasp. Massaging his sensitive temple, Gaston is distantly aware that he's still completely naked. The hangover that wracks his brain does little to stop him from crawling off the couch, reaching for a nearby pair of underwear on the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots something unexpected. Head swimming, Gaston slowly drags himself forward until he can grasp at the thin slip of paper to his left. With one hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes and the other hand unraveling the note, Gaston blinks twice before reading the words etched in blue pen.

 **Villeneuve Flowers**  
**583 Williamsburg District**  
**Brooklyn, NY 11201**

Gaston blinks. He hasn't ever seen or heard of any _Villeneuve Flowers_ before. The writing is somewhat scratchy, as if it were written in a hurry, and Gaston can't help but allow the wheels in his head to turn for a moment, processing the information.

A lightbulb seems to explode in the recesses of his mind. Letting his jaw fall in an unsightly manner, Gaston ignores his migraine and pushes himself to his feet, throwing his wrinkled clothes on in record time and flying out the door.

 

 

The city is bursting with energy, throngs of people walking to and fro in every direction. When Gaston emerges from his cab, he nearly faceplants on the hard concrete in anticipation. Throwing a few extra bills through the window of the yellow car, he flings himself into the winding bustle of pedestrians and scans the line of shops that border the city street. The names of almost every building are written in fancy swooping French, cafés and boulangeries alternating in various shades of blues and greens.

Gaston stops when a faded wood sign sways in the late-afternoon breeze. _Villeneuve_ _Flowers_.

The building is exceptionally small, even by a city's standards. Overhead, the ceiling of the shop is a mismatch of differently colored glass plates slotted against one another. Flowers line the back part of the store in a makeshift greenhouse, dappling petals of all shapes and colors glowing in the sunlight. To his left, Gaston notices a woman reading a book behind the service desk, dark hair pulled back into a modest bun.

Gaston stalks towards the counter with intent, the heavy sound of his boots filling the peaceful quiet of the shop. Peaking from behind the leather cover, the woman sets aside her story and fixes Gaston with a curious gaze as he slams his hand onto the marble counter, eyeing her with an intense stare.

"I'm looking for a man," he starts, voice ringing through the shop and unsettling a pot of roses that sit at the checkout.

"Aren't we all?"

Embarrassed at his lack of context, Gaston straightens himself to full height and towers over the woman. Drawing his brows tightly together, he fixes her with another hard look.

"I'm looking for a specific man whom I have reason to believe frequents here. His name is Lefou, and he's—"

"In the back."

An awkward silence falls over him as Gaston blanches, mouth agape.

"I'm sorry?"

At this point, the woman opens up her book once more and merely points a finger at the well-hidden door to her left. "He's in the back. It's unlocked."

Burying her nose into the pages of the novel signals an end to the conversation. Shaking himself in an attempt to gain back his nerves, Gaston merely throws one last confused look at the strange girl before marching over to the wooden door, fingers sweating as he turns the doorknob.

The next room over is even more enchanting than the last, painted an offset white with golden markings all around. The paintings, however, are the last thing that catch Gaston's attention at the moment, eyes glued onto the round figure of the man currently snipping at flower stems with careful precision.

Lefou doens't look up from his work until Gaston closes the door shut behind him, the telltale click of it being set back in it's rightful place piercing through the quiet room. Craning his neck up to see the intruder, Lefou's entire body freezes as he locks eyes with Gaston, who is now slinking forward with a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Miss me?" Gaston questions, barely being able to contain his excitement.

A random ceramic pot flies his way, and Gaston barely has time to duck before it whizzes past his ear and lands with a sharp crack on the ground behind him.

"Get out," Lefou rasps, utter horror lacing his words. Eyes widening in shock, Gaston placates the other man by holding his arms up and offering a nervous smile.

"No need to get violent, mon chéri," he drawls. "I'm just here to talk."

Another pot, this time with a flower in it, nearly crashes into Gaston's temple. Ducking to the floor, he lets out a yelp of fear as Lefou closes in on him with a pair of gardening scissors in hand.

"Showing up to my work? Are you insane?"

The hands that are currently protecting Gaston's head deafen most of Lefou's words. Slowly withdrawing the defenses away from his skull, he offers a sympathetic smile.

"Wasn't that the whole point of leaving your address at my home last night?"

Lefou barely allows himself to process Gaston's words before he flushes pink, the tips of his ears glowing bright red. "I don't know what you mean."

Extracting the slip of paper from his pocket, Gaston offers a shaky hand towards the other man and visibly winces when Lefou snatches it from his grip. Observing the other man's face blush even deeper brings a small smile to Gaston's face. Desperately trying to hide it, he slowly rises to his feet and watches Lefou's eyes flit back and forth over the note.

"Well?"

"This wasn't intended for you."

At those words, Gaston's entire soul seems to crack open. "What do you mean?" he gawks, fixing the other man with an offended gaze.

"Before we met at—you know where, I ran into a couple who were celebrating their anniversary soon. They needed some flowers, and well—" Lefou gestures wildly to the entire shop around him. "You know."

"I don't know," Gaston quips. "How did that end up in my apartment then?"

"Well, I forgot to give them the address and, when we—" Lefou's face gets impossibly more red. "You know."

"I know," he responds with a champion smirk.

This time, Lefou tries to smack Gaston upside the head, fuming as the larger man dodges out of the way. Breaking apart from the squabble, the pair merely stare at each other to collect their bearings.

"So," Gaston begins, suddenly feeling more insecure than ever. "About last night. I, uh—I had a fantastic time."

Peering up at Lefou with wide eyes, he watches the other man begin to relax. "As did I."

"Yes. That's good."

An awkward silence settles over the two of them.

"So," Lefou draws out as he fiddles with the stem of a flower. "Why did you come?"

"Why wouldn't I have come?"

"Well, they do call it a one-night stand for a reason. It lasts, you know, one night."

Disappointment strikes Gaston deep in the crevices of his heart, and he fixes the shorter man with a soft gaze. "I came because I wanted to see you again, Lefou."

The look of surprise that greets him makes his stomach drop. "You did?"

"Yes. You're—" Gaston stumbles over his words. "—You're one of the most interesting people I've met in a while."

Complete silence falls over the pair once more, and a cold sweat begins to coat his lower back as he takes in the unreadable expression on Lefou's face.

"Last night . . . that was the first time I ever did anything like that."

Gaston tries not to gape at the other man. "It was?"

Covering his face with his hands, Lefou lets out a low moan. "The first guy I decide to have a one-night stand with, and I fuck it up."

Gaston sheepishly approaches the other man, patting his shoulder and offering a sympathetic look as Lefou mumbles incoherently to himself. Allowing the larger man to comfort him for a moment ends when Lefou suddenly snaps his gaze up to look Gaston in the eye.

"Is this a joke? You're not playing me, are you?"

Pulling back in offense, Gaston gasps. "I would never!"

"So you really came all the way to my place of work just to see me again?"

"Yes!" Gaston bellows.

Lefou shuts his mouth so quickly that the taller man can hear the click of his teeth connect. Breathing heavily, Gaston can't help but fix Lefou with an agitated gaze, stalking forward to grab him at his shoulders and look him square in the eye.

"Date me."

"What?!" Lefou squawks, face flushing a deep red once more.

"Date me," Gaston repeats, digging his fingers into the meat of Lefou's skin and pulling him closer. "Because I honestly have zero intention of letting you be in the near future.

For a moment, Gaston feels like Lefou is going to snatch his abandoned pair of shears and stab him in the heart, for any words of refusal would hurt just as much coming from the other man. Perspiration begins to collect at Gaston's brow, his heart hammering in his chest as Lefou stares at him, dark eyes searching for any signs of mistruth to his words.

"I'm free this Thursday."

Gaston's entire body becomes statuesquely still. "Thursday?"

"At eight o'clock."

"Thursday, eight o'clock."

"Yes."

"Right."

Releasing Lefou from his fervent grip, Gaston smiles wildly and fixes Lefou with his gleaming grin. Patting the man on the shoulder and swooping in for a quick kiss on the cheek, he bounds away with an untamable energy that spreads from head to toe. Lefou gawks at him with an endearing mixture of embarrassment, and Gaston blows the man a flamboyant kiss as he settles one large hand on the doorknob.

"Thursday at eight o'clock! Make sure you arrange a beautiful bouquet for yourself, because I'll be buying!"

Not letting the other man get a word in edgewise, he flashes one more picturesque smile before sauntering out of the flower shop, the grin on his face so wide and bright that he nearly blinds everyone in his path.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! I cannot thank everyone enough for all the amazingly positive feedback I've received on this fanfic. Thanks so much to everyone who read or reviewed, and expect a sequel soon!


End file.
